


Trust Circle

by Diana_Munroe



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Character Study, Dark! Harry, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Friendship/Love, James Westwell, Mind Voyeurism, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-24 15:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Munroe/pseuds/Diana_Munroe
Summary: Trust is hard and every day Macy learns more about who to trust, how to trust and how lean on her family and loved ones.  But when presence of Harry's darklighter puts her safety and relationships to the test, Macy has to figure out how to navigate an even more complicated reality.-- Finished Story (a character study that evolved into a narrative) --
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 41
Kudos: 165





	1. Trust, but Verify

So many changes had happened to Macy over the past year and if she was honest, becoming a witch, a half-demon and, for a time, the source of all evil, was the least of it. Learning to trust her sisters, learning how to be a sister was so much harder than lifting objects off the ground with her mind. 

She loved, laughed and shared more than she could ever remember in her entire life. She was truly a part of a family and that meant being so vulnerable. She had to have faith that those she put her trust in wouldn’t knowing lead her into danger, shame or embarrassment. She had to believe that if she gave up a small part of her hard won control, that those she had learned to love wouldn’t use it against her. 

Nowhere was this more true than with her relationship with Harry. A man who she not only had to trust with her life and her sister’s lives, but every time he orbbed them, every time he took their hands and lead them into the unknown, she had to trust that they would land safely. Even after she and her sisters believed that they can trust Harry with their lives, Macy still held her breath slightly, each time they orbbed, praying that wouldn’t land in a ditch, volcano or whatever else her wild imagination could come up with. 

But somewhere between teas and talks, vanquishing and visiting, she began to trust Harry implicitly. Not just with her life, but with her doubts, her fears, her excitement and her affection. 

Most people would think that Mel, the most outspoken and direct, was the most distrustful out of all of them. But both she and Harry knew better. It was her, the one who had been alone the longest, the one who had been abandoned by her mother and her father, whatever their intentions actually were, who needed the most reassurance that it was safe to care for another person. It was her who was most scared of being hurt and left behind. Macy had learned to navigate this world alone with its prejudices, limitations and negativity, but that left her with a few more scars that were not visible to the naked eye. 

Harry saw them though. She saw it in the way he cared and paid attention to her mood even when she had fooled her sisters into thinking she was okay. She had initially thought Harry’s interest in her was almost paternal, like a teacher who was aware of a student’s difficulty home-life; a relationship with love, but also with a healthy amount of distance for all involved. She was fine with that. Truth be told, she knew she had a little crush on her metaphoric professor, but as someone who had imprinted on caring authority figures before, it was nothing she couldn’t deal with. 

Finding out that Harry’s feelings for her were… deeper than she had imagined was shocking. She still thinks about the moment sometimes. Her head awash with power, knowledge of the world flowing in and out of her every second. If she chose, she could have been everywhere at once, but she tried to stay herself even though the power flowing through her screamed for release. And then Harry’s soft and calming energy made itself known to her awareness. 

“Come in,” she had said and watched Harry’s hesitant hand pull the door open. But unlike with her sisters that day, but his hesitance felt normal, the usual consent-awareness that he used with all of them. Not like the fear-fueled disappearing acts of Mel and Maggie. She had told him that day about the fear felt from her sisters. And just he had done dozens of times before, he touched her. Gentle. Calm. A touch that was meant to be reassuring. And it was, but there was more. So. Much. More. 

He had said, “We all love you very much.”

But what she heard was, “You are so precious to me. I hope you know that.” 

To her surprise, she didn’t feel embarrassed or nervous when she heard his unintentional confession. She almost felt pity for this little man who loved her…And that should have been her first clue that things were out of control. In that moment, with her mind and body still adapting to having immeasurable power, instead of feeling the enormity of his emotions, all she could register was how small he was, the whitelighter whose power was so limited in comparison to her own.

When she had come back to herself, she could look at him with the affection that was true and real even though they had agreed to pretend it never happened. They were going to be fine. Her trust in him was stronger than ever. And as the days passed, they fell back into the comfortable rhythm of friendship. 

But every once in while, when she was sure he wasn't looking, she'd remember. She'd play back how even when she was at her worst, changing time, throwing her sister, destroying her family’s house, Harry was never afraid of her. He never once wanted to leave her. That meant more to her that he could ever know. His thoughts, as clear as the spoken word, had told her he loved her, but his duty was to protect all of the Charmed Ones. She admired, even more, how his vows and conviction colored his every move. She felt his need to guide and protect when he talked, cooked or orbbed them in and out of danger… 

… And that’s how she knew she had made a big mistake. 

The moment she and Not-Harry had orbed out of sight from her sisters. The warm comfort she had come to expect was not there. The protective energy and quiet reassurance was her Harry was gone, replaced by possessiveness, lust and a quiet rage that burned her senses. She was not with Harry. She was not safe. And as the figure appeared before her, wearing a face she knew, but radiating a darkness unlike anything she had seen before, Macy squared her shoulders and looked at him dead in the eyes. 

“Who are you?” Macy demanded. 

He smiled, slow and deadly. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows slightly, “I’m the man of your dreams.”


	2. Knowledge Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has knowledge and experience on his side, but nothing prepared him for being the whitelighter of The Charmed Ones.

No one likes change, but that was not an excuse not to adapt to it. This had been one of Harry’s fundamental mottos that kept him focused throughout the decades.

When he had first met Mel, one of her first questions was “They put a cis-het white male in charge of the women’s studies department?” While he responded to her incredulity with a list of his credentials, he laughed silently to himself. 

The real question wasn’t about his gender or race or sexuality. The real question was how could a man born two years after women got the right to vote in the UK and one year after women got the vote in the US, be appropriately supportive and encouraging to women of the contemporary age? Answer: Lots of practice, reading, mistakes and most of all, adapting to change. 

While becoming a whitelighter comes rules and arcane knowledge, it does not come with an instructional manual. No one tells you how to be a good whitelighter. The Elders, much like the whitelighters they presided over, were mortals once and as such, are the products of their time, as he is. Some elders were confident that all a whitelighter needed was to be loyal to them and be responsive the calls of their charges. Some witches came to think of whitelighters as some form of guardian angel which was romantic at best; an unfortunate, though flattering misconception at worst. 

Whitelighters were teachers and on-call medics, basically glorified nannies and nurses. Not that Harry minded the job. He loved it actually. He loved teaching, healing, coaching and being there when others needed him. But just like being a teacher, it can take a long time to be good at it. For him, serving as the protector of women with power was a unique challenge since he was of a time when men still got into fights over a woman’s honor and not being a virgin at the time of marriage was grounds for divorce. He had been dead for 20 years before a woman could open her own bank account… and remembers the pride of one of his charges when she deposited her first check. 

He had to learn again and again that the rules he had been brought up with and unconsciously executed were often misguided, patriarchal and sometimes utter nonsense. From the book _The Second Sex_, to _The Feminine Mystique_, to _Women, Race and Class_ and _The Beauty Myth_, he read them all to better serve his charges, to be an ally, listening ear and support women of power throughout the decades. It was a noble pursuit and one that he had thought prepared him to be the whitelighter for the Charmed Ones. 

He was very wrong. 

His fellow whitelighters had assumed that since the Charmed Ones were the most powerful witches in centuries and were destined to save the world, that their lack of experience and control would be the challenge, like children playing with fire. It was a bit of a challenge, but it was one he could handle. 

What really knocked Harry over about Macy, Mel and Maggie was their capacity for love, caring and connection. They opened their home and their hearts to him, each other and the magical community around them. He had watched humanity for decades, had seen families formed, love blossom and encouraged his charges to seek out connection whenever they could. But it was rare that they ever connected with him back. He was the nanny and the nurse, but rarely seen as a person and even more rarely a man in the eyes of his charges or The Elders. But everything was different in the Vera-Vaughn house. In their house, he belonged. He was family. And he’d never take that for granted.

Which was why, after he returned for Tartarus, his growing feelings for Macy was such a problem. He had originally thought his attraction to Macy was a side effect of his torture. His emotions has been so unpredictable that her presence was comforting. When he finally got his anger and sorrow under control, his disturbing desire to be around Macy didn’t change, but was quiet enough to be ignored. He took his job of protecting the Charmed Ones seriously and to do his duty, he couldn’t, wouldn’t value one sister over the others.

But with every misadventure and shared cup of tea, he found himself falling deeper for eldest witch. He connected with her confusion on being resurrected, her awkwardness in crowds and her excitement when she made a new discovery. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the times where they seemed to play parents to their little family. She was special. 

When Macy had absorbed the Source and her sisters had grown wary of her, he felt compelled to remind her that she was wonderful, loved and cared for. He was still her whitelighter after all and he, more than anyone in the house, knew what it was like to feel alone and how dangerous that could be. But in his need to comfort and protect, he had forgotten to protect himself and she had gleaned his not-so-plantonic feelings for her. 

It shamed him a bit that she knew, but he hoped she also knew that he would never use his feelings as cudgel to change their relationship into something she didn’t want. They were friends, which was a relationship more precious to him than he could adequately describe. If his feelings ran deeper, he’d deal with that without adding a burden on her… 

Or so he thought… 

Until the hurricane that was his darklighter destroyed the bit of peace his charges had worked so hard to achieve. It happened so fast, sometimes he could scarcely remember which order it happened. The door blasted in, the portal opened, The Book of Shadows was destroyed --and Macy screamed that she wouldn’t leave him. In that half-second, his heart soared and his battle with the assassin took on a new, brutal intensity. Her safety was utmost so he didn’t hesitate to send her away, but knowing she wanted to stay, that was something he could hold to forever.

Seeing the assassin’s face and then later learning about he had invaded Macy’s dreams, made him question everything; especially with Macy’s new found nervousness around him and calling his doppelganger “seductive”. While he has been in a relationship with Charity, he hadn’t really had to deal with a sex drive for about a half of a century. He had originally thought that was all apart of the Elders wiping his memories, but he learned in his reading that those urges, fight, flight, feed, fornicate, had never been lost. They were transferred into a singular vessel. His darklighter. His other half who was as smart, as aware and as cunning he was. 

So when Mel and Maggie returned home and asked where Macy was… he knew. He didn't want it to true, but there was no denying it.  
She was with his darklighter. 

And he was terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the books mentioned are real, essential feminist texts. 
> 
> "The Second Sex" by Simone de Beauvoir  
"The Feminine Mystique" by Betty Friedan  
"Women, Race and Class" by Angela Davis  
"The Beauty Myth" by Naomi Wolf


	3. Love, Lust and Other Things that Happen in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James (Dark Harry) tells his side of the story.

At first he didn’t believe her. How could 60 years have passed since he has walked with the ground beneath his feet? But then she showed him his gravestone and that of his wife. She said his son was in an unmarked grave right behind the church where he died. He had seen all of this and learned to accept that, yes, it was 2019, all of his friends and family were dead and he was alone in the world. 

"There's gone, James," she said with gentle lilt to her voice, "All gone." 

The sorrow nearly drowned him, until she told him there was more. He was some kind of magical creature, not allowed to die and the last of his kind according to her. 

It enraged him. Not able to see his family due to some deal he could barely remember and wasn't fully explained. How dare he be stuffed away like forgotten toy. And then she showed him… himself. The git that went by the name Harry. Harry? Like the self-righteous prig who bullied him in grade school. Harry, the other half of himself, who got to laugh, be cared for and have a family. Not like the one he visited in his memories, but a family nevertheless. James seethed with jealousy and fury, but the Overlord held him back, telling him the time would come for his revenge. 

In the meantime, she had given him work to do. She told him that the women around his doppelganger were witches, Charmed Ones, she had said. He hadn’t believed her. Hadn’t believed in magic at all really and then she showed him her abilities.. and his. It frightened him a little, but he also understood power when he saw it. She had given him several tasks to prepare him for destroying the Charmed Ones, except the eldest. The Overlord had a special interest in the one called Macy due her “demon blood” she had said. More things that James didn’t fully understand, but had to accept as true like the griffins and unicorns he had been sent to capture. 

The Overlord also did something he hadn’t expected one night. She had invited him to her bed. Encouraged him to release the lust that had been building alongside his rage. For nights on end, they fucked with her bindings on him strengthening after each coupling. He felt it, but didn’t care. It was deep and dark and the closest he had felt to something besides all consuming fury.

Until Macy hugged him. 

He wasn’t sure if he was her demon blood or the poison, but he felt her relief when she saw him. The Overlord had made him believe that Harry was some kind of servant the Charmed Ones, but she was wrong. Macy was just happy that “Harry” was alive and… loved him. He thought back to when he had attacked and Macy shouted that she wasn’t going to leave Harry. He heard that love in her voice then too. And here it was again. It shocked him, but he had a mission from his master which needed to carry out. Just as he was about to kiss her, he asked “Where are you?” and she leaped out of his clutches. 

Again and again, just as they were getting close, she pulled away as he tried to serve his master and serve himself at the same time. He had stopped making himself so present in Macy’s thoughts when it was clear that she was avoiding sleep, avoiding him in particular. Although she had said that she liked the change she had seen in Harry, had liked him, it became clear that while she wanted to be desired, she wanted Harry, his other half, to be the one desiring her. He found himself wandering through the recesses of Macy’s subconscious mind trying to find out what exactly she wanted from his double and felt compelled by the desire to give it to her, if only to have that moment one more time, where she was happy to see him. 

Macy dreamed often of Harry. Of a simple, domestic life with no magic, just science, academics and good food when she came home. Unlike his lust-filled nights with the Overlord, Macy’s desires were complicated. There was sex, but there was also safety and contentment. One of Macy’s fantasies was simply she and Harry in a room together reading different books. It confused him until he watched for a little longer. 

_Suddenly, Macy closed her book and announced, “I’ve read the same page 5 times!”_  
_Harry tossed his book aside, “Oh God, Yes!”_  
_And then they were all over each other, laughing the entire time. _

James left the scene then and returned to his own body. _Harry is such a fool._ James thought. His other half wanted Macy, but was too much of a fool to take what he wanted. He could have all of that. Love, care, sex in his grasp and he lets it get away. Well, James was not Harry. He saw something he wanted and he went after it. And if Macy wanted a Harry who she could trust that treated her like desirable woman she was… well he’d gladly play the part.


	4. Living with the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macy plays a dangerous game with James... over dinner.

Macy had to admit, the demon’s Harry impression was really good. After Macy had woken up in “her room”, she was sure the brief encounter had with Not-Harry had been a dream. 

As she had made her way downstairs, the soft whoosh of the faucet brought her to the kitchen where she saw Harry washing dishes. 

“Harry?” she questioned. 

He turned, seemingly surprised. 

He smiled gently, “Ah, you’re awake. I was getting worried.” 

She pointed to her room, “How did I get in my room?” 

Harry raised his eyebrows at her, “I orbed you there remember. You seemed so knackered, I just let you sleep.” 

“You can orb again?” 

“Yes, I found a spell in the Book of Elders to heal me,” he said and reached his hand out to her, “Come, you must be famished.” 

Macy nodded and walked cautiously to the dining room where… a candlelight dinner has been set up. The meal smelled amazing, but something about this entire situation seemed… off. 

“Harry, where are my sisters?” 

"Oh," he said, seemingly surprised, "They're following a lead on the Overlord." 

"By Themselves?!" Macy accused. 

Harry smiled, "Macy, they are full witches, like you are. I'm sure they're fine." 

Macy looked at Harry carefully, and slowly smiled back. 

"You're right. I'm probably overreacting." 

"That's the spirit," he commented, cementing her confidence that who ever she was looking at; he wasn’t Harry. 

This being, whoever he was, didn’t seem to understand that Harry loved all of them. Even if he was in love with her, family was family and he would never dismiss the safety of her sisters. Macy could have given up the ghost right there and tried to run, scream or trap this demon, but she was a scientist first. 

For whatever reason, this demon wanted Macy to think good of him. He wanted to be a Harry that she knew and, to put this whole illusion together, he had to have a lot of power. She had an unprecedented opportunity to observe him in his environment and possibly learn more about the threat that had been attacking witches all over the world… she just had to keep pretending that she didn’t see him for who he truly was. 

About half way through an admittingly fantastic filet mignon, Not Harry asked, “Do you miss it?” 

Macy cocked her head at him, “Miss what?” 

“The university, the lab,” he stated and then give a slight shrug, “Our talks?”

There was such a gentle openness to the question, that Macy had to consciously remember that she wasn’t talking to Harry, but despite that, she felt compelled to answer honestly. 

“All the time. I am a doctor after all,” she laughed, “But this work is worthwhile too.” 

“Really?” 

Macy nodded, “It’s actually a lot like science for me. I got into the field to help people. I wanted to save lives with the gifts that I had been given. And now I’m doing the same thing, except with a little more magic. When I get to save a mother, sister, or friend. It means the world to me.” 

Macy shrugged. 

“I dream of a normal life, but that’s all it is. A dream. I would never sacrifice my magic, sisters or you to get it.”

Not-Harry cut into his food, quietly, chastened it seems. And Macy had the ridiculous urge to comfort him. 

“Hey. Did I ever tell you about B’Elanna Torres?” she asked suddenly. 

“Who?” 

“She’s an engineer from Star Trek,” she stated. 

Not-Harry squinted his eyes at her in confusion in a way that was so familiar it made her chuckle, “Television?” 

“Yes,” she answered on a laugh, “She was amazing and was one of the first scientists I ever saw was like me. She was different from everyone around her. She was not fully human. And in one episode they separate her alien half from her human half.” 

Not-Harry looked up at her then. She fully had his attention. 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes. Her human half was sent to a dungeon and the alien half was experimented on, but both were in a prison,” she continued. 

“What happened?” 

“The alien half freed her human half. And the human half was smart enough to make a plan for both of them to escape,” she knew she should’ve stopped there, but something pushed her to say the bit, “They needed each other to survive.” 

Not-Harry smiled at her sweetly, and then his eyebrows narrowed and his eyes darkened. 

“Nice story,” he said with his voice deepening slightly, “How does it really end?” 

Macy swallowed, “The alien half dies, but human half’s DNA is incomplete without her alien half. So the alien DNA is reintroduced and she is complete once more.” 

“With two halves of her soul in eternal conflict.” 

“That’s one way to look at it. Or maybe that they learn to live together,” she suggested. 

“You said so yourself. One dies, one lives,” Not-Harry leaned into her, “And I don’t plan on dying.”


	5. Brave Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macy visits Harry after he leaves her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place immediately after "When Sparks Fly". So between the last chapter and this chapter, all of the events of the episode have occurred

Lost. Harry looked lost. And angry and somewhere in the midst of it all, Macy could sense the darkness of self-loathing creeping into her whitelighter. Her friend. The beautiful spirit that she loved like a… That she loved. 

Macy had worn that expression too in her life. It’s the one you wear when the world that you know is shattered beneath your feet and you know nothing will ever put it right again. It’s the one he wore when he returned from Tarturus, haunted by new revelations about his past and she had seen it again when Charity had betrayed them. 

When she and her sisters had first met Harry, he was a man of surety and order. Kind, but confident by inclination and experience in the righteousness of the Elders, in his knowledge of magick and in the purity of his own spirit. Over the past year, each one of those truths has either been destroyed or drastically altered. Macy understood that experience all too well. She understood the pain of revealed secrets and coming to the understanding that your world had been built on a lie. 

Her eyes drifted to her trunk full of sheets and the journal that was hidden under layers of cloth. She wasn’t ready to reveal everything she felt for Harry, to Harry, but if she could tell him a little of her secret, maybe he’d find comfort in that. And this Harry, her Harry, would never use her feelings against her. He would never hurt her. 

With that confidence, she lifted her trunk, grabbed her sketch and went to the attic in search of her dejected whitelighter.

The door at the top of the attic stairs was slightly ajar as was the custom in the Vera-Vaughn-Greenwood House. As was also custom, she knocked. Harry looked up from his book and saw her. His eyes brightened slightly, but his smile didn’t lift. 

“Come in,” he said, gently. 

Macy crossed the threshold in the section of the attic that Harry had claimed as his own. She looked at his comforter, books, and minimal furnishings and then back up at Harry. 

“You deserve better than this,” she said. 

Harry’s eyes crinkled in confusion, “Pardon?” 

Macy moved closer to him, “You save the lives of the Charmed Ones, provide decades of guidance for witches and all you get in return in a corner in a musty attic.” 

“I’ve never… Macy, where is this coming from?” he asked. 

“I’ve just been thinking about how you were treated by the Elders, by Charity… and even by us.”

Harry reached out and touched her arm, “Macy, I appreciate you seeking me out, but you’ve just been through a horrible ordeal. I don’t want you worrying about me.”

Macy looked up at him, “Someone has to.”

“You--” 

Macy gently placed her finger on his lips, silencing him.

“You’re listening.”

Harry stilled. 

“I wanted you to know what happened to me,” she stated. 

“You don’t have to--” 

“I want to.”

Harry nodded. 

“I think he had me under some type of sleep spell for two days. When I woke up, he had created this elaborate illusion that looked like the manor and more than that, he tried to be you,” she stated and glanced down at the floor, “Really, he did everything right. The way you dress, the way you smell…” 

Tentatively, as if he were afraid to hear the answer, Harry’s voice interjected, “How long did it take before you realized it wasn’t me?.”

Macy looked at him.

“About five seconds,” she took a deep breath and sighed, “He didn’t make me feel safe.”

“Danger can be exciting,” he stated flatly. 

Macy tilted her head, “That’s what I vanquish demons for. I don’t need that in a relationship.” 

She continued, “Your darklighter lacked compassion. Integrity. Sincerity. Everything that actually makes you, you. He tried to fake it, but… it was like going to the Eiffel Tower in Vegas, when you’ve been to Paris. There is no comparison.” 

Harry hung his head, “But he is… was a part of me. I pretended to be him and it was intoxicating.”

He looked at Macy, “I grabbed the barrel of a gun like it was annoying plaything and threatened a demon with a knife. I felt powerful and for two seconds--”

She placed her sketch on a nearby chair and Macy took his hands, “You wondered what it was like not to care. To just take what you wanted and not give a damn about the consequences?”

Harry looked down at their joined hands, “Yeah.”

Macy smiled, “Been there.”

“It’s not the same.” 

“Right, you didn’t change reality.” 

Harry let out something that sounded like a dignified snort. Macy squeezed his hands and he looked up at her. 

“When I was The Source, I hurt everyone around me. I changed the world, just because I could."

"You were under the influence of untold power," Harry countered.

“And none of that made you love me any less,” she finished. 

Harry blinked at her. They had never spoken about what she heard from him when she was The Source. They had stuck to their agreement to pretend it never happened even though, clearly his feelings hadn’t changed. In fact, she guessed they had grown stronger if the darklighter’s interest was any indication. But she wasn’t there to dwell on that tangled web of emotion, she just wanted to give Harry something to hold on to. 

She grabbed her sketch from the chair and handed it to Harry. He took it and with his finger, he traced the lines of the drawing with reverence. 

“You made this?” he asked, his voice nearly cracking, “for me?” 

“For myself, really, but I think you need it more than me for now. You seem to look in the mirror and see a stranger or “half of a man” whatever that means. But I want you to see you the way that I do. Kind, Strong, Self-sacrificing to the point that you drive me crazy and… worthy.”

Harry looked at it again and then back at her, “Thank you, I’ll treasure this always.” 

“This year has been so hard on all of us and we couldn’t have made it without you. I couldn’t have made it. You helped me feel at home for the first time in my life. I can’t describe what that means to me.” she finished.

Harry cracked a small smile. The first one that she had seen in weeks. 

“Solid pep talk,” he stated. 

Macy smiled, “I learned from the best.” 

As Macy looked into Harry’s eyes, she felt something knock back into alignment, a spiritual or mental frequency that only she and Harry were tuned to. She had felt it before sometimes when they were in his office or when they shared a late-night cup of tea or even during those rare nights when the house was silent and they were working on their individual projects, but were aware of each other’s presence. She saw his eyes glance down at her lips as a brief flash of want danced across his eyes. It wasn’t a cold, possessive desire like she had felt from the darklighter, but a warm, welcoming pull that wanted everything she had to offer and gave back even more. 

Harry reached his hand up to her face. 

“May I?” he asked.

Macy nodded.

He touched her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. 

“Thank you.” 

Macy grabbed his hand and held it, “You are more than welcome.”


	6. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her ordeal, Macy has trouble sleeping. Harry helps.

Macy stared at her bed with a mixture of anticipation and existential dread. Realistically, she knew the facts. Harry had vanquished the Darklighter. Ergo, he could no longer creep his way into her dreams, but something about being unconscious, being vulnerable again chilled her to her bones. 

After her talk with Harry, she excused herself to get some rest. She had taken care of her whitelighter, now it was time to take care of herself, but when she looked at the mattress, comforter and pillows, somehow she couldn’t do it. 

At first, she had gone through the motions of her evening routine. She said good night to her sisters, reassuring them that she was okay and ignoring their pleading looks to talk. She just didn’t have much talk left in her tonight, but she promised herself that she would take time to bond with her sisters soon. 

She ran her bath with lilac and Epsom salt. After twisting her curly hair into a messy updo, she sank into the bath, letting the calming combination fill her senses. She had survived. She tried to concentrate on that. She had not only survived, she had strategized, fought, seduced… who would have thought a year ago she was capable of seducing a man? She wondered if maybe she had tapped into something in her demon blood or maybe… maybe it was because she knew Harry so well. Maybe because she had been cataloging his small tells ever since she learned he had feelings for her, she knew how to push the darklighter’s buttons. 

She sunk deeper into the bath. She wasn’t lying when she told Harry that she knew something was wrong within five seconds to being the darklighter’s presence, but a part of her wanted it to be real. Part of her wanted Harry to push their boundaries just a little so they could see if this thing between them could be something real.

The darklighter had taken that dream and turned it into a nightmare even though… and this was the strange part, she didn’t think he meant it. He had wanted her to relax, he had wanted her to enjoy herself, he just had no clue how to make it happen. He didn’t know how to make her want his company so he pretended to be Harry. He didn’t know how to make her want to stay, so he locked the door. And he didn’t understand family, so he missed how not including her sisters in his elaborate story gave him away almost more than anything else. 

As she started to scrub and her muscles relaxed, she consciously tried to remember that she was home. She and her sisters were safe and the real Harry was upstairs, ready for anything. But even if she wasn’t worried about a physical threat, her mind was a whole other battlefield. The darklighter had invaded her dreams before anything else. If he was to be believed, he made her sleep for two whole days. Even if nothing happened, she was vulnerable for 48 hours and it was terrifying. In the days before that, she had started to avoid sleeping because she never knew when he would appear. Now he was gone and she should be relaxed… she tried to relax, but her mind kept on flicking back and forth between images and feelings. 

_His hand cupped her cheek as she practically begged him with her body to kiss her. _

_Her hand gripping his as she accepted his offer for a dance. _

_Feeling his face against her neck as she reached for her goal in his back pocket_

_Setting his weapons aflame with her powers when he attacked_

Somehow it all felt like a dance, or a game. While they had talked about how to serve his master without sacrificing her sisters, it still felt like being lost in the jungle, she knew she didn’t see the full picture. It shouldn’t matter now that he was gone, but it did… it just did. Her analytical mind demanded that the puzzle be solved, but the pieces still didn’t quite fit. 

She felt her muscles tense again and she tried to breathe in deeply. _Slow down. Relax. You are okay_, she reminded herself. 

Deciding she had had enough when the water started to chill, she got up, wrapped herself in a towel and made her way to her room. She changed into her comfortable cotton night clothes and Columbia University t-shirt and then… stared. Just stared at the bed. 

And there she stayed, looking at the centerpiece of her bedroom as if it held the secrets of the universe. Was she really scared to sleep? Of all things? She was half-demon and a Charmed One for crying out aloud and… 

Macy marched out of her room into the kitchen. She made her way to the cupboard that contained their rather ridiculous assortment of teas. Right under the cupboard was a massive, but surprisingly useful book on herbology which had been moved from the high shelf as Mel started experimenting with potions. Macy flipped it open and started scanning the index for cures for nightmares. 

“Late-night potion making,” Harry asked. 

“Ahhh!!” Macy screamed, spinning around and igniting her fingertips. 

Harry held his hands up, “Hey, it’s just me.”

Macy still followed his motions wearily, “Am I awake?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Am. I. Awake?!” she demanded. 

“Yes,” he said, concern crossing his face. 

“Safeword?”

“Hut 8,” he responded immediately and Macy put her hand down, extinguishing the fire and sagging her shoulders.

“May I enter the kitchen?” he asked, concerned, but trying to keep his voice light. 

“Yes,” she sighed out, “I’m sorry, I just--” 

“No need to explain. You’ve been through a lot.” 

Macy lulled her head to the side, “Don’t make it okay for me to singe your housecoat.”

Harry shrugged, “It’s a fashion statement.” 

Macy let out and exhausted laugh. 

Harry walked closer to her

“So what is all this?” he asked softly. 

“Can’t sleep,” she replied. 

Harry glanced at the page that Macy had turned to. The title **To Ward Off Nightmares** dominated the page in large black letters. 

He looked at her, saddened, but holding back the guilt that threatened to swallow him. His feelings were not going to help the woman he loved at this moment so he took a breath and gently touched her arm, “How can I help?” 

Macy relaxed into his touch. 

“I don’t know, I just started reading.” 

“Okay, so why don’t you sit and let me take care of this,” he stated. 

“Harry,” she half-groaned, half yawned in a weak attempt of protest, “It’s late.” 

“And you need rest. Go sit. I’ll take care of you,” he said and busied himself around the kitchen, preparing the tonic as instructed by the book. 

Effectively dismissed from the kitchen, Macy made her way to the dining room table and settled in the rightness of the moment. There was nothing pretty or manufactured here. The old house creaked and groaned, her face was clean, but not glamorous, her hair was wrapped in a scarf and instead of a sexy, form-fitting red gown, her ratty grad school tee was dominated with the colorful DNA emblem of the Columbia University genetics lab. Everything felt real, physically and spiritually. She was home. 

Moments after the thought flashed in her head, a steaming mug and accompanying coaster appeared in front of her. She looked up to Harry’s smiling face and a cup of his own. 

“What’s this?” she asked as he sat beside her. 

The scene was so similar and yet, nothing like what she had experienced with the darklighter. 

“A mixture of chamomile, lemon and juniper extract. I enhanced them to hopefully increase their healing properties,” he replied. 

She sniffed the tea and blinked, “It’s robust.” 

Harry smiled, “Yes, but hopefully it will help.” 

“Can’t be any worse than your hair of dog,” she said and drank slowly, letting the warm liquid ease down her throat. 

Harry joined her as they drank in silence. She felt her eyelids get heavy as she sipped the last bit of her tea. She felt it with the last bit of tension eased out of her muscles. 

“Aaahhh,” she said on a deeply satisfying breath. She glanced at Harry and saw his eyes flicker up quickly to her face as he had been doing something naughty. She laughed. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she said. 

“You are more than welcome. Let’s get you to bed,” he said and stood, offering his arm to her to escort her to her room. 

She smiled at the gesture. She took his arm and yawned as they walked across the dining area to the stairs. As they made their way to her room, Harry slowed down his steps. 

“May I come in?” he asked as they approached the door.

Macy’s eyes widened at the implications. Apparently, he had taken that bold comment about his darklighter to heart. 

“To show you how to ward your sleep,” he said in a rush when his brain finally caught up with his works. 

“Of course, of course, come in,” she said, opening her door wide enough to let both of them through. They sat on her bed as they had many times before and Harry turned to her. He held his hand out and orbed three stones into his hand. 

“Whoa,” Macy said, impressed. 

“Experiments,” he replied simply. 

“What are they?” she asked looked at the one light purple, two black stones in Harry’s hand. 

“Crystals that will protect you when you sleep. Amethyst is the purple one, it goes under your pillow. It protects your mind and clears it of negative thoughts,” he said and pointed to the black jagged stone.

“This black tourmaline, it will go the left side of you, perhaps by your window. It purifies and cleanses you of anxiety, negative thoughts” 

Finally he pointed to the smooth dark stone, “This is Hematite, it will go on your right side to ground you and let you know what’s real. It blocks negativity and connects you with the earth. They are strong individually, but together, they form a grid of protection that is unmatched.”

Macy smiled, “The power of three.” 

Harry nodded, “The power of three.”

They stared at each other for a second, smiling at each other, before Harry broke it off. 

“Come on, get to bed,” he said, shooing her her with his hands. 

“Okay, okay,” she said, chuckling. They stood up off the bed. Harry placed the two black stones in their respective places and Macy settled under the covers. He turned to her and handed her the Amethyst crystal. She placed under her pillow and turned to the side. 

“Am I ready?” she asked. 

“Almost,” Harry replied and held his hand out and waved it across Macy and the stones. 

“Now they are tuned specifically to your aura,” he stated. 

Macy lifted an eyebrow at him in question. 

“Auras have levels,” he explained. 

Macy accepted that and snuggled in, her eyes drooping. Harry leaned down beside her. 

“One more thing,” he said softly. 

“Um Hm?” 

“May I kiss you?” he asked gently. 

Macy’s sleepy eyes snapped open. 

“For protection,” he added, “Like Harry Potter” 

Macy’s mouth tilted up, “Yes.” 

She felt Harry’s lips grace her forehead, soft, but with intent. She felt the magical web of the tea, the stones and Harry’s kiss snap together. And she felt safe in her own mind for the first since the darklighter blasted the door open and changed their lives forever. 

“Thank you,” she slurred out sleepily and drifted into unconsciousness.

Harry smiled and uttered, “Sleep well, my love.” 

And shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The herbs and the stones mentioned are actually believed to have healing properties described.


	7. Here In My Room, Dreaming About You And Me

_Clang. Clang. Clink-Clang. _

The irritating sound outside of her window made Macy to open her eyes. She had tried to ignore it, but its persistence forced her out of her bed to investigate. She threw off the covers and went to her window in a huff. Peeking outside, she saw Harry right outside her window dress in black and leather jacket. He smiled at her with a wry, slightly dirty smirk. Not Harry then. His darklighter, James. Macy scowled at him. 

“You’re still alive,” she sneered. 

“Of course I am, love. Unless you wanna fry both of us, neither one is staying in the ground,” he replied, resting his hand in his pockets. 

“I’m not your love,” she declared. 

James put his hands over his heart, “Oh, that hurt. Didn’t I treat you nice when you were at my place?”

“Are you talking about the part when you kidnapped me or when you tied me up?” 

“Come on, we had a nice dinner, we danced. It was romantic. Speaking of which, is this what we’ve been reduced to, a teen movie cliche?”

“What?” 

“You inside the house and me outside like some bloke your folks forbid you to see. Why don’t you let me in and we can talk like adults?”

Macy blinked at him. She had been so caught up in seeing James, she forgot that he shouldn’t have been able to locate her at all. The house was cloaked, just like his apartment was. She looked down at the window sill. The stone that Harry had place was still there, but it was translucent and glowing. _ This is a dream _, she realized. 

She had thought with all of the protection work, she would never see James again in her unconscious mind. Clearly she was wrong, but unlike all of the other dreams, he wasn’t close to her, he didn’t surprise her and most importantly, she wasn’t scared of him. She felt like she was in control. Maybe that was the true protection in her dreams. She looked out of her window with a challenge in her eyes. 

“James Westwell,” she called out, “Back up five steps.” 

As if pulled by an invisible truck, James’ feet slowly, reluctantly pulled back five steps away from the manor. 

“What’s this?!” he snarled out. 

Macy smiled, “My mind. My rules.”

When his last step landed, he looked up at Macy. The frustration on his face slowly morphed into something like that was pleased and just this side of naughty, “You’re getting stronger. I like that.”

Macy crossed her arms, “Harry helped.” 

James’ smile widened, “I’m sure he did. A dog in a manager, that one. Trying to stop others from getting what he can’t take himself.” 

Macy lit up her hand and threw a fireball at him. James dodged it quickly. 

“Oi! What was that for?!” he shouted. 

“I am not a prize to be won or an object to be taken. Five steps back,” she ordered. 

James threw his hands up, “Okay. I’m sorry.” 

Macy lifted her chin, “One step.” 

James straightened his jacket and looked up at her, “You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?” 

Macy smiled, “So are you.” 

James leaned in toward her, “Then let me in. Give us what we both want.” 

Macy sighed, “No.” 

“Come on, Macy,” he crooned, his voice dropping lower and dripping with pure want, “Scared you might like it?” 

Macy shrugged, “I don’t know. You’ve been in a bottle of 60 years. Maybe you’re out of practice.”

James smirked back at her and then slowly, without breaking eye contact, carefully took off his jacket. He let it hang for a second on his finger and then drop to the ground. He then reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his bare chest.

“Why don’t you come down here and find out,” he challenged. 

Macy’s eyes trailed from his smokey eyes down to his annoyingly inviting lips to the muscles of his neck across the well-defined planes of his chest down to his toned abs ending at the line of this dark jeans and back up again. 

“You can do more than look,” he offered. 

“I know better than to go after a man who wants to put my sisters in a zoo,” she replied. 

James shook his head, “I’m not interested in doing that to your sisters... or any other witches ... or magical goblins or whatever.”

“What?” 

“I’m free Macy. Like your story, I died and was reborn without the shackles of the Overlord. I never wanted to kill and now, I don’t have to,” he said. 

Macy swallowed, “What will you do with your freedom?” 

James smiled, “I don’t know. But your sisters, your family, have nothing to fear from me. I don’t even want to hurt my lesser half, really. He keeps me alive.” 

“Really?” 

James hung his head, "I have more memories of our mortal life than Harry does. Trust me when I say, we've killed enough." 

Macy looked at him with a mix of caution and sympathy. There was a weight that she had seen cross James' eyes that she hadn't seen before. It remind her of him telling her about his imprisonment and release, but it was much deeper. 

She sighed, "I'm sorry for all you've seen and been through. I’m betting you could use a friend.”

"I could," James agreed and stepped toward her, “But we can be so much more.” 

“No we can’t.” 

“You want me,” he insisted. 

“But I love Harry and you know it, otherwise you wouldn’t have tried to be him. But you are apart of him, so I care about you too,” she said. 

“I’m just supposed to come into your dream and talk?” he asked, disbelieving. 

“It worked for Harry. He knocks too. And waits for permission,” she stated. 

“But I’m not Harry,” he stated. 

Macy smiled, “Yeah, you are.” 

She turned into her room and darkened the space around herself in the mini world she had created in her mind. 

“Wait!” James called. 

She turned around and looked at him. He was fully dressed again.

“No matter what we are, I don’t fully trust that prig to protect you,” he said. 

Macy lifted her eyebrows, “That’s literally his job.” 

“Still, he’s stiff.” 

“He killed you.” 

James sneered.

“And I killed him. It's a moot point. Fact is, if you need me, hold the stone that muted your powers in your hand and think of me. I’ll come. Wherever you are,” he stated with earnestness. 

“I don’t --” 

“Please,” he begged, “If the situation is dire and you need help, promise me you’ll do it.” 

“Ok,” she stated, surprising herself, but believing him, “I’ll do it.” 

James nodded and turned to go. 

“Safe travels,” she called after him. 

He looked back at her and smiled, “Sweet dreams, my love.” 

He snapped his fingers and orbbed away. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macy opened her eyes. 

“Harry!” she called out. 

Dressed in a warm night shirt and loose pants, Harry orbbed in front of her, concerned. 

“Macy, what--” 

Macy held her hand up and stated gently, “Don’t say anything. Please.” 

Harry quieted and waited for her. 

She simply looked up at him, hopefully and yet somehow sad. 

“Just hold me,” she requested.

Emotions flashed quickly across Harry’s face. Shock, confusion, concern, but as he continued to hold Macy’s eyes, his expression settled into one of love and acceptance. 

He nodded and walked to the other side of the bed. Macy felt the bed dip as he moved in behind her. Harry placed his hand on her shoulder. She grabbed and brought it across her belly. She snuggled into him. She waited for… something. A request for more, a nudge, but Harry stayed where he was, comforting, but not demanding anymore than she was willing to give. He just squeezed her hand once in question. Macy smiled. 

“I just wanted to have you close,” she said and drifted to sleep.

** THE END **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Charmed Fandom for being so kind and supportive. I've enjoyed every minute of getting you know you all and thank you for your reviews, kudos and encouragement. See you on the next fic.


End file.
